


So it's Summer

by TheManSings



Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 16:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManSings/pseuds/TheManSings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey finds Ian under the El after Monica skips town for the last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So it's Summer

_**Ok so this entire thing nearly word for word was a dream I had last night. That is literally the only reason why I wrote it, because it was so violently stuck in my head. I don’t condone/think Mickey would actually randomly attack Ian this way ever because he loves him too much. (Let’s not talk about that scene because I have a lot to say about that scene and feel that was very in character wherein this is very ooc and entirely based off of a dream)** _

  
Where do you go when your mother walks out on you? Mickey went back to bed. He cracked a beer, shoved a cheap splintered chair against his door and fell asleep.

But the Gallaghers were different. They tried really hard to pretend that they were impervious to their parents’ constant fucking faults but they weren’t. Not really.

The sounding snap of metal against wood grew louder as Mickey walked along the underside of the El. Ian was hunched over something hammering away and with every swing he saw his muscles tense. This was stupid, he should turn around before he notices him.

 

“Hey.”

Ian froze his arm mid swing and arched his back like he’d been punched. A bead of sweat started to slip down the base of his neck and he looked flushed and red when he turned to him.

“What are you doing here?” A smile tugged at his lips and it sorta made Mickey ache. Because he wasn’t here to be a distraction, for the first time in his life – he wasn’t here for himself.

He kicked at the gravel under their feet. “I heard your mom took off.” The sun was beating down and he could practically feel his shirt becoming stained with sweat. “Like, for real this time.”

Ian shrugged and started to twirl the hammer around in his hand. His wrist made a snapping sound each time he did it. Mickey realized it had definitely been broken at some point in his life. “She’s just doing what Monica does.”

“I don’t know it seems kinda serious this time. I mean I get it man my mom was in and out until she ended up in the morgue so –“

“No offense Mickey but you don’t really know what you’re talking about.”

The bite to his words actually momentarily rendered Mickey speechless. Even in their worst moments of vile bitter anger, Ian never sounded so –  _hotheaded._

He licked at his lip. “I was just fucking – Christ just seeing if you were good or whatever. Ian nodded quick and turned back to hammering. “What the fuck are you doing anyway?”

“Gotta make a new bed frame for the house.”

Mickey laughed. “You’re kidding right? What the fuck are you Cinderella?” He continued with one hit after the next and each one sliced into Mickey more. “Who the fuck is it for? If it’s for Lip I’m going for blood because there’s only one person he’d be fucking hard enough to break it.”

Ian smiled to himself but swallowed it back down. “Frank.”

“Frank?” Mickey’s voice raised an octave and sounded closer to incredulous shouting than disinterested small talk. Oops. “Fucking Frank?”

 _Whack whack whack,_ “Yea he needs a bed. I’m making one.”  _Whack, whack, whack_.

Mickey reached out a hand and harshly pulled at his shoulder to turn him around. He could feel his blood boil as the muscle memory caused that day in the store to flash across his mind.  _You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me_.

Ian’s eyes were empty, like he was on autopilot. Mickey’s were burning with misplaced venom.

“Frank is a piece of shit Ian and here you are fucking slaving away making a bed for his sorry ass.” He felt hot in his own skin and itched at the film of dirt he could feel on himself. Summer was a dirty season; you were always outside unabashedly skipping showers and sliding against other bodies.

“He’s my dad.”

The words made him snap and Mickey hauled back to collide his fist with Ian’s face. The blow was a cheap shot – a Milkovich shot. Because yea they could all kill you but it didn’t take skill to gain the upper hand, it took sneaks.

Ian went down more easily then he would have originally thought. It might have been the heat, it might have been the vacant look in his eyes, he didn’t linger on it.

Mickey climbed on top of him straddling his torso landing punch after punch. His knuckles slipping while they connected because of his sweat mixing with Ian’s.

“Fucking Frank!” Another sloppy blow, “he’s never done anything for you!”

And in between each messy hit and each bitter word of  _how can you do this to yourself_  Mickey paused to grab Ian’s face and smash their lips together. Blood mixed with lust and just as quickly as he’d punished him for his selfless ways he wanted to make up for his own miscalculated ones.

Ian dug his fingers deep into Mickey’s sides and made him buckle from the pain of the pressure points forcing them even closer together. Mickey darted out his tongue to lick at Ian’s lip and with one hot breath breathed out his name.

Monica was gone and Ian knew it, she was gone for good. Frank was back and Mickey – Mickey was angry about all of it.

Mickey really hated summer. Hated how out of their minds it made people – made him. And yet here he was able to do nothing but writhe against the boy he loved and toss the hammer to the side. Blood on blood on skin on teeth and  _god_  he’d turn himself into the villain if it meant he’d chase Ian’s bad dreams away.


End file.
